Chapter 1 – I'm Completing This at any Cost
[Scene – Mountain Training Grounds, March]
The wind howls through the mountains. The snow crunches under Strom's boots, but he's shirtless, steam rising off him like he's a walking volcano.
Narration:
For the past month, Strom's routine was simple — wake up before sunrise, climb halfway up the mountain, and proceed to nearly kill himself with workouts that would make Astrid punch him for being "too extra."
He didn't just lift rocks — he carried boulders the size of wagons on his back while sprinting uphill. He didn't just do push-ups — he did them on his fingers, with a log tied to his waist, while Sam yelled at him to stop. His rest days? Carrying giant logs through waist-deep snow for "fun."
[Sam arrives, looking like he just survived war]
Sam is drenched in sweat after his own long-distance run.
Sam: (gasping) Dude… you're gonna break something… or everything. Take a rest before your spine packs its bags.
Strom: (still deadlifting a rock the size of a house ) Not until I lift that.
Sam follows Strom's finger — it's pointing at an ancient stone structure buried in snow, easily heavier than 50-foot Dravyss herself.
Sam: …Man, that's heavier than aunty Dravyss. You can't.
Strom: (eyes burning) I'm doing this… or I'm gay 💀💀.
Sam: …Oh god. He's mad.
[The Lift]
Strom cracks his knuckles, plants his feet, and grabs the frost-covered edge of the structure. Muscles bulge, snow shakes loose, and with a roar that echoes down the valley—
Narration:
—he lifts the damn thing.
Sam: Fuc# man… don't do that in front of Astrid, she'll definitely leave me 😭😭😭.
[Post-lift Banter]
Sam: Why the hell are you training like this?
Strom: I don't want a random MF to kill me when I don't have my pendant.
Sam: You're still on Phoenix's words?
Strom: Not just Phoenix. I need to be ready for anything. Any trouble, any fight, any monster that shows up — pendant or no pendant.
Sam: (mutters) …Bro's trying to become the next aunty Dravyss.
Strom: (glares) Say that again and I'll make you carry this thing.
Chapter 2 — Forge of Ghosts
Night had fallen like a bruise over the village. The forge was a single island of light in the dark — a furnace coughing blue and orange flames, a smell of burned bone and hot iron hanging in the air. Snow hissed where it hit the roof. Sparks jumped like little fire-birds whenever Strom drove the hammer down.
Sam followed him in, boots crunching, shoulders still warm from the run. The place looked like a war relic: racks of dented armor, broken shields, a pile of blackened demon bones wrapped in rough cloth. Strom moved like a man who had swallowed a storm and was carrying it around his chest.
"You sure you want to do this tonight?" Sam asked, trying to sound casual while his eyes tracked the pile of trophies. "You've been training like an animal for weeks."
Strom didn't look up. He set a sack down on the anvil and tugged at the tie. "Not telling Wraith." He said it like a prayer and a warning.
Sam laughed, then stopped when Strom unrolled the cloth.
Inside: teeth and curved fangs, serrated scales that shimmered even under the forge light, a jagged gorgon tooth like a little polished spear, the black-glass shards of Bizokar, strips of Zyron hide, and — last, folded and smooth as river glass — a single scale the color of midnight ocean: a section of Dravyss's tail.
Sam's mouth went dry. "Bro… you've been hoarding dragon parts?" His voice was half-awed, half-panicked.
Strom merely smiled thinly. "All the demons I've ever put down. Zyron, Bizokar, Gorgon teeth… Sifen gave me the axe material ages ago. I kept them. Time to turn trophies into armor."
The Melting
Strom fed bone and metal into the furnace. Demon bone burns strange — it smells like ozone and iron, a bitter tang that makes your throat tighten. The Bizokar obsidian glowed like a pocket of starless night. Zyron scales hissed when plunged into the blaze, shedding sparks like small suns.
He melted the old, dented bits of armor he'd worn for years first, folding forged iron back into itself until it reflowed like water. Then came the demon pieces — each required a different temperature and a precise chant. Sam stood to Strom's left, palms pressed together, fingers threaded into a minor braid of mana. He pulsed support into the fire, steadying the flames when the Zyron fragments tried to spatter and flare.
"Watch the Zyron," Strom muttered, his hammer singing. "Too hot and it fractures. Too cool and it won't bind."
Sam narrowed his eyes and pushed a steady stream of mana into the Zyron bath. The color shifted from black to a deep blue, then to living steel.
The Secret Ingredients (and why they matter)
Strom talked as he worked; the talking was part ritual, part therapy.
Dravyss tail scale: rare, dense, and hard as frozen lightning. It grants the final blade-edge a living flash — not just steel, but something that hums with dragon-blood resonance. He planned to use it for the spear's main blade and for reinforcement plates on the chest.
Sifen axe material: a myth-steel that keeps balance and rigidity. Perfect for the spear shaft and the internal spine of the armor.
Bizokar obsidian: dark, serrated, and shock-absorbent. Good for joints and to anchor the flux-runework.
Zyron scales & gorgon teeth: Zyron stores mana like a battery; Gorgon tooth acts as a catalytic rune — it binds magic and turns impact into fire if tuned. These would be the rings' core and the finger-rune system.
Demon-hide cape (blue): a hide that whispers. It holds residual demon will but can be cut to form a light, protective cloak that resists magical dampening.
Fragments and bones: used as filler for runes — when burned and ground, they make corrosive-resistant sigils.
Sam listened, fascinated, as Strom layered metal like a man stacking fortresses.
The Build — piece by piece
Helmet — Dragon-head shape
Strom hammered a helmet into the silhouette of a dragon's skull: a tapered brow, cheek ridges that caught light, vents in the jaw where breath would billow. The interior was lined with Zyron padding; the crest had a thin seam of Dravyss scale, filigreed with Gorgon-tooth wire so the helm could take a charge of mana and channel it into reflex runes.
Armor — Dark blue, reflective
The cuirass was molded from folded Sifen-steel layered with Zyron plates. From some angles it drank the light and looked like midnight water; from others it flashed, reflecting as if speckled with shards of sky. The chestplate had conduits buried in its weave — tiny grooves of Gorgon-tooth solder that would siphon kinetic mana into storage cores.
Bracers (no full gauntlets)
Strom refused heavy palms. His wrists were wrapped with broad bracelets: Bizokar frames and Zyron inlay. They left fingers free so his strikes weren't clumsy. The bracelets contained micro-runes that anchored the finger rings' mana flow and prevented ring-feedback.
Rings — one for each finger
He crafted a ring for every finger, small but wicked: Zyron scale base, a shard of Gorgon tooth set into each crown, etched with runes in Strom's shaky hand. The rings were keyed — when he clenched, power funneled through tendons, focused into the knuckles; Strom would be able to produce a blue-fire punch — a short, explosive mana burst compounded by the gorgon catalyst. Sam's eyes widened when he saw the runes ignite faintly on the rings' surface.
Boots — magic steel + Bizokar
The boots were heavy, forged from magic steel lined with Bizokar plates across heel and toe. They'd lock form mid-step and resist the flux zones' dragging. The soles had tiny Zyron vents that could suck in momentum and release it as a burst.
Cape — Blue demon hide
Strom stitched the cape so it flowed like water and clung like oil. It was a showpiece: dark cerulean, edged with Gorgon tooth filament. The hide hummed, as if half-awake; when wind caught it, it whispered like a predator.
Spear — the whole damn thing
This was the centerpiece. The shaft was a composite of Sifen steel at the core for straightness, wrapped in Bizokar obsidian filaments for shock dispersion. The main blade — a long, slender leaf of Dravyss tail scale — flashed blue-steel and sang when polished. The blade cove and handle filigree used Gorgon tooth metalwork, shining like sharpened chrome. At the butt of the spear, a small secondary blade of Zyron tooth — wicked and serrated — could be used for close work. The whole spear hummed; the Dravyss scale gave it an edge that could bite through myth and snap a warlock's ward like glass.
Binding the Soul of the Armor
This was the part that took hours and nearly everything Strom & Sam had in reserves.
Strom laid all the pieces in a circle of runes on the anvil. He set the Dravyss scale over the spear blade like a heart. Sam channeled and Strom chanted — old words stolen from the mountain temple, the language of flux and binding. Mana pooled beneath their palms, warm and oily, running through Gorgon teeth like current.
They threaded Zyron conduits into the armor's cores, soldering Gorgon teeth into pressure plates. On each impact plate, Strom etched small sigils — catchers that would siphon kinetic force into Zyron cells. Those cells would convert brute force into mana stores; the rings would draw from them for the blue-fire strike.
"Once this binds," Strom said low, breathing smoke, "if a dragon aura sits near me — even a sliver — the Zyron pockets will re-align and the plates will knit. Armor will close cracks itself. It'll patch holes. Not forever. Not invincible. But it buys time."
Sam, sweating and trembling from pushing long bursts of mana, asked, "So it heals when a dragon's aura is near?"
Strom nodded. "Or when I pulse the pendant. The Dravyss scale holds a trace. If she's within range, the armor feeds. If not… it'll just hold mana on hit. Hit me, and I store energy."
He closed the final rune with a ring — the Gorgon tooth snapped into place with a sound like a small bell.
The First Test
Strom stood, the armor cold but humming. He strapped the bracelets on. He slid the rings onto his fingers, feeling them bite gently. The spear felt like an extension of his arm, balanced yet lethal. He flexed; the rings glowed a faint blue at the joints.
"Okay," Sam said, half-scared, half-ecstatic. "Show me the blue-fire punch."
Strom inhaled, planted his foot, and threw a single, focused right hook at a spare anvil. The Zyron rings flared. Blue flame crawled over his knuckles like liquid light and smashed into the steel. The strike rung like a bell; the anvil spawned a long crack but didn't shatter.
Strom's forearm smarted — the bracelets took the shock — and a hairline scorch cut across the armor's plate. Strom tensed, and for a second the scars glowed. He felt the pendant warm at his throat like a small pulse. The hairline closed, metal knitting under a ghostly shimmer.
Sam dropped to his knees, laughing like a madman. "You are ridiculous. You actually did it. You built Dravyss-lite armor!"
Strom smirked through the heat. "Dravyss-lite? Don't make me laugh. This thing eats mana and spits it back with a kick."
Sam's grin faded into an impressed whistle. "Seriously though… you kept the Dravyss scale hidden?"
"Not telling Wraith," Strom repeated.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Bro, this is next-level. Astrid's gonna… faint. Or crush you with a hug."
End beat — Oath and Quiet
Strom sheathed the spear beside the furnace and stepped back, looking at the armor like a father with a newborn.
Strom didn't look away from the armor. "I'm training for anything. For Phonix, for whatever shows up, for when the sky tears. If I don't have my pendant, I don't want to be helpless. This armor—this spear—means I won't be."
Sam clapped him on the shoulder, heavy and sincere. "Well then… don't you dare die in it. I'm not carrying your corpse ."
Strom let a little laugh slip out. "You'll carry it into history, Sam. Make sure you make some legendary paintings."
They stayed for a while longer — Sam packing away the scrap metal, Strom checking every rivet, rubbing a cool breath across the Dravyss scale like a talisman. Outside, the wind forgot its name and the village slept. Inside the forge, a new shield for the future cooled in the dim, waiting for the day it would be needed.
Chapter 3 – "Unexpected Invitations"
The mountain air was sharp that morning, but Strom's pace was steady.
No armour. No weapons. Just him, walking toward Astrid's village.
His mind replayed Phoenix's taunt, and the weight of his new armour back in the forge. I can't always rely on the pendant. I need to be strong in my own skin.
The Ambush
The forest path curved into a narrow clearing. Birds sang. Leaves rustled.
Then— THWUMP!
A blur in sky-blue armour lunged at Strom from the bushes, spear tip flashing toward his ribs.
Almost instantly, a glowing arrow whistled from behind him.
Strom twisted sideways, the spear missing his chest by inches. His left foot swept back in a pivot as the arrow sliced through where his head had been, embedding itself in a tree.
Strom (calmly, muttering): "Wrong day to test me."
Without breaking eye contact with his attacker, he lifted one hand and called out:
Strom: "I can't call my armour… but I can call my weapons."
From miles away in the forge, metal whispered awake. The earth trembled softly under his boots.
Then, with a streak of blue light and steel, the new spear slammed into his palm, perfectly balanced.
The Test Drive
The armoured man lunged again — Strom twisted his shaft, catching the man's weapon in a tight lock.
With one swift motion, Strom spun, dragging the attacker forward before launching him into the second assailant — a woman in violet gear.
They tumbled together, spears and bow scattering.
In less than two minutes, both were pinned to the ground, Strom's spear tip hovering inches from the man's throat.
The Conversation
Strom (low growl): "Tell me who you are before I decide if you keep breathing."
The man raised both hands.
Zyphus: "Easy, man. You're definitely on our team."
The woman, brushing dirt from her violet armour, smiled faintly.
Violet: "Nice to meet you. I'm Violet, and he's my brother, Zyphus."
Zyphus: "Meet us at the old king's castle. Bring some friends if you want… but they'd better fight like you, okay?"
Before Strom could ask anything, they vanished into the treeline like smoke.
Strom (standing alone): "…What the hell was that?"
Astrid's Village
By late afternoon, Strom's boots touched the familiar soil of Astrid's home.
Flowra (Astrid's mom): "Hey sweetie! How's my sweet Knight doing?"
Strom (grinning): "Better now, special aunty."
Astrid stepped out, towel around her neck from training.
Astrid: "Ohhh, hello big guy. What's up?"
Wraith appeared holding a steaming cup of tea.
Wraith: "Miss me, or are you enjoying your time with the vampire?"
Strom: "One question at a time please."
He explained the forest ambush, the strange siblings, and the "castle invitation."
Without hesitation, Astrid and Wraith agreed to go with him.
On the Road
Halfway there, they spotted Sam jogging toward them with his usual grin.
Sam: "Yo, you guys going somewhere dangerous without me? Rude."
Strom: "You'll get your turn."
The four walked together toward the looming silhouette of the Old King's Castle on the horizon, unaware of what was waiting inside.
Chapter 4 – The King's Warning
The sun dipped low, spilling fiery gold across the sky as the four warriors arrived at the looming castle gates.
Strom and Astrid stood proud in their full battle armour—heavy plates gleaming under the last light.
Sam, draped in his mage robes, carried the aura of quiet power.
Wraith, radiant and fierce, wore a look that was both sassy and sharp, as if daring anyone to underestimate her.
Astrid (eyeing Strom):
"So… are we here to fight, or the king shit his pants again ?"
Strom (calm but ready):
"No idea, but whatever it is, stay sharp. No slacking."
They stepped inside the grand King's Hall, marble pillars stretching toward a vaulted ceiling painted with stars.
On the massive throne sat the King, an imposing figure cloaked in regal robes.
Flanking him were his five elite knights, their gazes sharp and unyielding.
To the King's right, Zyphus and Violet stood, casually waving — their youthful energy contrasting the tense atmosphere.
To his left, Thane, the bulky knight with his giant hammer, sat like a mountain of stone, silent and steady.
Next to him lounged Natalya, the vampire, her eyes glittering mischievously as she gave Strom a silent wink.
Natalya (mouthing silently):
Hey, handsome…
Strom smiled awkwardly but kept his cool — Wraith was nearby, and he wasn't about to risk that jealousy.
Strom (to the King):
"So… what's the situation this time?"
King (stern, pointing to Zyphus):
"I'm not the one to explain — he will."
Zyphus (stepping forward):
"There's something coming. Something beyond anything you've faced."
Strom:
"Go on."
Zyphus:
"He's the servant of an ancient demon entity… the Demon Lord."
Strom:
"Alright, so what's the problem?"
The King gestured for everyone to sit, and the group settled in thick, carved chairs around the great hall.
Zyphus:
"Someone killed the Demon Lord's old servant. So now he's waking up another."
Astrid (eyes narrowing):
"Another? How many servants does this demon have?"
Violet:
"No records. Could be two… could be two hundred."
Sam:
"So what does this new servant want? Something on Earth?"
Zyphus:
"There's an ancient sealed lock on a distant plateau—a huge portal that keeps the Demon Lord trapped outside our world."
Strom:
"So we have to destroy or seal that lock forever."
Zyphus:
"Exactly. But if the servant manages to open the portal, he dies. And the Demon Lord will be free."
Wraith:
"So this guy's a problem?"
Violet (grim):
"He's bigger than Earth itself. If he breaks free… the Demon Lord will consume everything."
Strom (leaning forward):
"So if we stop this servant, we stop the apocalypse. Sounds easy."
Zyphus (shaking his head):
"Nope. This servant is Grimvalvor."
The hall fell silent, like a heavy storm settling in.
Zyphus:
"Imagine a 200-foot-tall giant, wearing a dragon skull helmet bigger than any dragon. A sword longer than anything you've seen. Skin so tough he feels no pain."
Zyphus:
"And he can create a flux zone—a field that blocks speed, shields, healing, magic… even teleportation. Plus, his sword attacks cause devastating area damage."
Strom:
"Dude… if this guy's just the servant, the Demon Lord must be insane. We have to stop him fast."
Violet:
"We've got six days. On Saturday, he'll try to open the portal."
Strom:
"Why Saturday? Some special day?"
Zyphus:
"It's a golden moment, Hundreds of thousands of years ago when Gods locked him away."
Sam:
"So if he attacks again, the Gods will come to help us?"
Zyphus (shaking his head):
"No. When someone killed the Death Stalker, the chain of God's curse broke. We're on our own."
The room fell heavy with silence.
Violet (breaking the quiet):
"We leave tomorrow evening. For now, pack what you need, rest up. After that… peace is a memory."
Later, at Strom's place…
Astrid paced the floor, frustration bubbling.
Astrid: "We've just put the whole world in danger."
Sam (shrugging):
"We didn't know then. We aren't guilty."
Strom (clenching his fists):
"Pack everything. We're ending this."
The night air outside was cold, but inside, the fire in their hearts burned hotter than ever.
Chapter 5 – Power Up and Preparations
The forge fire flickered low, casting long shadows as Sam paced anxiously beside Strom.
Sam (worried):
"Bro, if Grimvalvor can block magic and spells like Zyphus said, then I need something solid to fall back on. Magic alone won't cut it."
Strom (nodding, calm):
"I got you. I can give you some mana dust."
Sam stopped mid-step, confused.
Sam:
"Mana dust? What the hell can I do with dust?"
Strom:
"It only works on non-living things — like your staff. Sprinkle some on it, and it'll recharge your mana faster."
Sam's eyes lit up.
Sam:
"Oh, so I can keep my magic flowing. Nice. Hey, can I borrow your old sword and spear too? Might come in handy."
Strom (grinning):
"Take 'em. They've saved my ass more times than I can count."
Astrid (crossing her arms, serious):
"We need every single ounce of power if we want to take down that monster."
Wraith (doubtful):
"But have you really listened to what we're up against? Grimvalvor isn't just big. He's unstoppable. I'm not sure we can beat him."
Strom (firm):
"You're right. But we have to try. We can't let the world die because we were too scared to fight."
Strom stepped aside and revealed his newly forged armour — gleaming dark blue plates that reflected the forge's glow.
Wraith (eyes wide):
"So this is what you've been hiding."
Astrid (grinning):
"Damn, that's cool as hell."
Strom (smirking):
"Now, enchant every weapon and armour we have. No risks. We started this, so it's on us to finish it."
Meanwhile, in the castle balcony…
Violet leaned against the stone railing, staring into the darkening horizon.
Violet (worried):
"You really think we can stop him, Zyphus?"
Zyphus (clenching his jaw):
"We have to. There's no other choice."
Violet:
"We're not going to die, right?"
Zyphus (grim smile):
"If we do…then it'll be an honor."
Violet (determined):
"We have to save everyone. Ready everything. No holding back like we did against Strom."
Zyphus:
"We want him as an ally… not as a corpse."
Violet:
"But if we had to, we could kill him."
Zyphus (shaking his head):
"No I don't think so. He's survived things we haven't even seen. There's something protecting him."
They had no idea about Dravyss, the dragon mother watching from afar.
Chapter 6 – The Armory of Fate
In the glowing forge, fire crackled and sparks danced as Strom hammered away with fierce focus.
Strom was crafting something special — a one-sided sword for Wraith, light yet deadly sharp, forged from scales and enchanted metal. The blade shimmered with a faint blue glow.
Once done, the team gathered around the forge, each weapon and piece of armor glowing as Strom channeled his magic into them.
He began with his spear, running his hands along the shaft and blade. The dark blue scales of Dravyss' tail shimmered brightly as hundreds of tiny blue blades—like swarming bees—materialized around him, hovering and waiting to strike on command.
Strom (focused):
"These blades will cut through anything Grimvalvor throws at us. They'll keep him busy while we land real hits."
Next morning…
Sam and Astrid prepared to leave for the castle.
Sam handed a small furry bundle to his sister, Lisa.
Lisa (teasing):
"I thought you were still afraid of cats?"
Sam smiled silently and walked off, a rare softness on his face.
Meanwhile, Astrid hugged her mother tightly, eyes shimmering with tears yet full of fierce determination.
Astrid (whispering):
"Mom, I might not come back. Don't cry for me—be proud your daughter did something stupid… something heroic. If we meet again, it'll be in heaven."
By afternoon, the full team assembled at the castle gate.
Sam was clad in mage robes but armed with Strom's old sword and spear — relics of countless battles.
Astrid was fully armored, her massive blade resting against her shoulder, ready for war.
Wraith held her new sword—Strom's gift—and a small dagger, her eyes sharp and ready.
Strom himself was a sight to behold — clad in his gleaming dark blue armor, spear in hand, pendent glowing on his neck. The hundreds of blue blades hummed softly around him, ready to swarm.
From the castle balcony, Violet eyed the group skeptically.
Violet:
"Are those things really going to help us?"
Strom (grinning):
"Yeah. They're not just for show. They'll cut, distract, and confuse Grimvalvor."
Zyphus stood tall in his sky-blue diamond armor, twin spears gleaming with a cold light.
Violet nocked a glowing magic arrow, shurikens at her belt, bow taut and ready.
From the shadows, Natalya watched Strom with a sly smile.
Natalya (softly):
"Looking like a true Dragon Knight."
Wraith (smirking):
"Because he is the one."
Thane, clad in heavy black armor, hefted his massive hammer. His voice rumbled through the air.
Thane:
"We fight not for glory or names, but for everyone. Known or unknown, this is about saving lives—not flexing muscles."
As knights and troops from nearby villages poured into the courtyard, Zyphus commanded the assembled forces.
Strom (commanding):
"We strike Grimvalvor head-on. Elite knights flank on the left, marksmen and mages cover the right. No distractions. No mistakes."
Everyone nodded, the weight of the moment sinking in.
Without hesitation, the army marched toward the looming figure of Grimvalvor, their hearts pounding with resolve.
Chapter 7 – The Road to Grimvalvor
The air was heavy but the group marched on steadily, determination burning in their eyes.
Sam glanced around, breaking the silence.
"Yo, if we really want to hunt that monster down, maybe we should've used animals for travel. Saves energy for the fight, right?"
Violet shook her head, her fingers tightening around her bow.
"Walking's better for our health. Plus, riding animals would mess with our timing. We need to arrive together, not scattered."
Zyphus nodded in agreement.
"Exactly. If we attack separately, Grimvalvor will pick us off one by one. But a united strike? That's our best shot at taking him down."
Strom, scanning the horizon, asked sharply:
"So, does this thing even have a weakness?"
Thane, voice deep and steady, stepped forward.
"Because he's so massive, Grimvalvor can't move fast. But his flux zone messes with our speed too—walking feels like we're dragging weights."
Zyphus added, serious:
"And remember, in that zone, shapeshifting is useless. No size shifts, no tricks. We stay normal."
Strom let out a frustrated sigh.
"Who the hell designs this kind of nightmare?"
Wraith spoke up, calm but fierce.
"My bet's on his legs. Every demon's weakest spot is the legs. If we can bring him down by crippling those, the rest will be easier."
Violet smiled, impressed.
"Good call, Wraith. Glad you're on our side."
Strom cracked a grin.
"Let's stick together and strike as one. Unity and teamwork—that's how we break giants."
Laughter broke the tension as they pushed forward.
Four and a half days later, the group was still a great distance from Grimvalvor, but their target loomed on the horizon.
Sam squinted, shielding his eyes from the sun.
"Man, from here he looks like a tiny ant."
Zyphus smirked, eyes sharp.
"Yeah, but when we get close, I'm sure he'll say the same about us."
With no hesitation, they quickened their pace, heading straight toward the colossal giant, ready for the battle that would decide the fate of their world.
Chapter 8 – Clash with Grimvalvor
The ground trembled beneath their feet as the massive shadow of Grimvalvor grew larger with every step. His hulking form loomed against the darkening sky, towering over mountains like a living mountain himself.
Strom's voice rang out, sharp and commanding:
"Mom! Now that's time!"
A brilliant blue flame flickered in the air, swirling violently, and with a sudden burst, Dravyss emerged—her massive wings beating the air, scales shimmering in radiant hues of azure and silver. The majestic dragon circled above Grimvalvor, fierce and unyielding.
Strom grinned, ready for war:
"We'll take his legs. Mom, distract him from the skies. I'll back you up with the blades."
Dravyss's roar echoed thunderously.
"Got it! Let's rock!"
She shot forward like a blue comet, claws slashing, wings whipping up fierce gusts that rattled the earth itself.
Nearby, Zyphus eyed the dragon skeptically.
"You call that your mom?"
Strom shot him a pointed look.
"Give some respect. She's my mom—and the fiercest dragon alive."
Minutes later, the full army assembled at Grimvalvor's feet.
Strom, Zyphus, Astrid, Wraith, Thane, Sam, Natalya, and elite knights stood united, flanked on one side by skilled marksmen and mages, ready for war.
Without hesitation, the signal was given.
The battle erupted.
Dravyss swooped low, her powerful claws smashing against Grimvalvor's massive skull helmet with bone-rattling force. Sparks flew as metal and dragon scales clashed, the giant staggering but unyielding.
Meanwhile, Strom launched his hundred shimmering blue blades like a deadly swarm. They pierced the air with a chilling hum, stabbing deep into Grimvalvor's armored legs, eliciting a roar of pain and rage.
On the left leg, Wraith, Astrid, and Violet pressed hard, blades and arrows striking in perfect rhythm. Violet's magical arrows zipped through the air, some exploding into tiny bursts of energy that weakened the giant's defenses.
To the right, Strom, Zyphus, and Thane hammered the leg relentlessly. Thane's mighty hammer struck the rock-hard skin with a force that shook the ground, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the surface.
From a distance, Sam summoned bolts of crackling lightning, targeting Grimvalvor's head, his spells lighting the air with deadly precision.
Grimvalvor roared, shaking the earth, swinging his colossal sword with terrifying speed.
Strom narrowly dodged a massive strike, feeling the shockwave tear through the ground beneath him. The battle was intense, every second a struggle for survival.
Dravyss soared again, baiting Grimvalvor's attention skyward.
With a powerful swipe of her wings, she unleashed a blast of blue flame that scorched the giant's armored chest.
The coordinated assault took its toll—Grimvalvor's legs began to buckle, slow and heavy under the relentless attack.
Suddenly, Natalya darted forward from the shadows.
Her claws slashed with deadly grace, aiming for the giant's weak points as she taunted,
"Too slow, big guy!"
Her speed and agility created openings, allowing the knights to press their assault deeper.
The battlefield was chaos:
Blue blades danced like deadly bees around Grimvalvor's legs,
Arrows flew like streaks of light,
Thunderous hammer strikes echoed,
Lightning bolts crackled through the smoky air,
Dravyss's roars filled the sky with primal fury.
The giant's flux zone shimmered, trying to stifle their magic and speed—but the combined force of warriors and magic pushed back the darkness.
Strom shouted to his team:
"Keep pressing! His legs won't hold much longer!"
Zyphus grinned, throwing a spear deep into a crack forming in Grimvalvor's right leg.
"We're breaking him!"
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the first real cracks began to show in the titan's armor. The earth shook violently as Grimvalvor let out a terrifying roar—an ancient warning that the battle was far from over.
Chapter 9 – On the Skull of the Giant
The ground trembled like it was trying to crawl away.
Grimvalvor's roar split the air, rattling armor, shaking the trees miles away. His massive shadow swallowed the battlefield.
Strom hurled his spear with everything he had — the weapon whistled through the air and lodged deep between the giant's ribs.
Without hesitation, Strom called forth his twin blue blades, the steel flashing with dragonfire energy, and started climbing the monster like it was a cliff face.
Strom (grunting while climbing): "This is a lot taller than I thought…"
Strom to Zyphus: "Dude! I need backup!"
Zyphus didn't answer with words — he just jammed both his spears into Grimvalvor's side, hauling himself upward in fast, brutal leaps.
But halfway up, his grip slipped. The fall should've been fatal — but a rush of wind blasted his face.
WHOOSH — Dravyss caught him midair, claws like steel hooks, her wings cutting the sky.
Without slowing, she snatched Strom too and dropped both of them directly onto Grimvalvor's helmet — a massive skull of a long-dead dragon, strapped to his head like a crown.
Dravyss: "I'll be back. Try not to die before then."
She launched upward, vanishing into the clouds.
Seconds later…
The air darkened as Dravyss returned, clutching a boulder the size of a house in her talons.
Dravyss: "Ready?!"
Strom and Zyphus exchanged a single nod, planting their weapons deep into the dragon skull, gripping tight.
The boulder came down like a falling mountain. BOOOOM!
The impact shook Grimvalvor's entire body, forcing him to stumble. Bone fragments and dust rained down.
Dravyss didn't stop — she scooped the boulder up again mid-fall and hurled it a second time.
But this time, Grimvalvor growled and swung his colossal black blade upward — the sword split the rock in half, the explosion of debris knocking Dravyss off balance.
Meanwhile on the ground —
Natalya and Wraith were a blur of movement, slicing at Grimvalvor's knees in perfect synchronization, cutting deep enough to make the giant stagger.
Astrid and Thane came in heavier — every swing of Astrid's giant blade sounded like a tree snapping, while Thane's hammer made the ground jump.
Sam stood behind the frontlines, commanding the mages like a general.
Sam: "Lightning casters — focus the head! Fire casters — burn the joints!"
Violet, calm as ice, directed the marksmen from the right flank.
Violet: "Archers, aim for the gaps in his armor — ignore the chest, it's too thick."
From above, Strom spotted Sam's spear whirling through the air, glowing with a surge of lightning magic. It embedded itself into the top of Grimvalvor's skull helmet.
Strom (smirking at Zyphus): "Guess that's our doorbell. Let's go!"
The two warriors dropped inside the massive dragon skull, finding themselves inches from Grimvalvor's giant eyes.
They expected soft tissue. Instead, the surface was pale, doughy — like stabbing wet bread dough. Every cut they made instantly healed over.
Strom: "Oh great, he's got self-healing pizza eyes."
Zyphus: "Don't tell me you plan to fix this with a rock."
Strom: "I do plan to fix this with a rock."
Suddenly, Sam's magic activated — the spear on top erupted in a thunderous blast. The shockwave cracked the skull helmet.
A small chunk of stone tumbled down inside. Strom caught it instantly, his grin feral.
Strom: "Hell yeah."
Without warning, Strom hurled the pebble skyward — he and Zyphus leapt after it, catching Dravyss's claws mid-flight as she swooped in.
The three of them shot away from Grimvalvor's head just as the giant slammed his sword into the spot they'd been standing.
The battle was far from over… but now, the giant was angry.
Chapter 10 — The Fall of the Giant
The ground quaked under Grimvalvor's colossal steps, the air vibrating with each breath he took.
As Strom's boots hit the ground, his voice boomed across the battlefield.
Strom: "Everyone—GET AWAY FROM HIM! Stop attacking! Save your lives first!"
Thane (still hacking away at the giant's shin): "He's still standing! How the hell do we leave now?!"
Strom (eyes glowing faint blue): "Believe me!"
Something in Strom's tone—an unshakable authority—made even the most stubborn warrior obey. The army broke formation, pulling back in a chaotic wave, keeping their weapons ready.
Strom raised one hand to the sky. A crack in the clouds tore open, blue fire swirling into the shape of a comet. The air turned unbearably hot, and then—
WHOOM—!!!
A blue-flaming asteroid smashed into Grimvalvor's skull with a detonation that rattled the heavens. Shards of molten rock sprayed across the battlefield as the giant staggered, his knees buckling.
Strom: "NOW! TAKE HIM!"
The army surged forward in unison—Strom and his core team leading the charge. Elite Knights clashed into his legs with greatswords, Marksmans rained arrows, and mages hurled fire and lightning. The sound of steel, magic, and roars became one endless thunder.
Strom's hundred spectral blue blades sliced relentlessly into the giant's knees, severing tendons like glowing guillotines. His own spear stabbed deep into the weakened joints, each thrust shaking the massive frame of their enemy.
Above, Dravyss spread her wings, eyes blazing. She tried to grow larger, her body shimmering with magic—only to feel the oppressive flux zone lock her size in place.
Dravyss: "Oh… you can block my size? But Not my strength."
She shot upward, her wings folding in for speed, and clamped her claws onto Grimvalvor's dragon-skull helmet from behind. Her muscles coiled—then she pulled.
Fifty feet of dragon strength against two hundred feet of demon giant. And she moved him. Grimvalvor's footing crumbled as Dravyss wrenched him backward.
Wraith (to Astrid, eyes locked on the exposed knee): "Astrid… ready?"
Astrid (cracking her neck): "I was born for this."
Astrid hurled Wraith upward with a force like a catapult. Wraith soared, dagger flashing, and buried it deep into the giant's second knee. She let go mid-fall, flipping backward, her sword sliding out to slow her descent. She landed in a crouch—then smirked.
Wraith: "Come back to mama."
The dagger ripped through the giant's hardened demon flesh, traveling inside like a homing serpent until it flew back into Wraith's hand—now dripping with molten black blood. Grimvalvor howled.
Zyphus hurled both spears at lightning speed, calling them back mid-flight only to throw them again, puncturing the giant's armor in rapid succession.
Thane swung his massive Hammer straight into Grimvalvor's thumbs as the giant reached down to grab Dravyss, making him recoil in agony.
Thane: "Feels like you hit your thumb on furniture, huh?!"
Astrid and Natalya hacked through the giant's armor plates, prying them open for deep cuts. The Elite Knights swarmed in, swords flashing like silver lightning, while mages unleashed fireballs that exploded across his torso.
Violet (roaring): "WE END HIM NOW!"
The marksmans obeyed, unleashing a rain of arrows—each tip enchanted—ripping into the giant's head until his helmet was bristling like a monstrous porcupine.
Grimvalvor's knees gave way completely, his roar shaking the mountains. The battlefield knew—the end was near.
Chapter 11 – The Seal Trembles
The colossal body of Grimvalvor crashed fully onto the ground, shaking the battlefield like the world itself was groaning. Dust clouds rose like storm waves, but the rain of attacks from every warrior did not stop.
Swords clanged, spells flared, arrows rained down. The giant roared in fury, his eyes burning like two molten furnaces.
Then—
A pulse of black energy exploded outward from him.
It was like a shockwave from hell. Everyone was thrown back—soldiers, knights, even Dravyss was sent tumbling in the air, her wings snapping open at the last second to avoid hitting the ground too hard. Strom braced, dragon aura flaring, but even he slid back several meters, boots carving deep trenches into the stone.
The giant rose, his massive blade cutting horizontally in a wide arc. Those too slow to dodge… didn't survive. Armor split. Shields shattered. The sound of bones breaking was drowned in the roars.
Astrid narrowly avoided the swing, though the blade's wind pressure sliced a deep cut across her ribs.
Sam: "He'll regret that!"
A lightning bolt as thick as a tree trunk slammed down from Sam's staff, burning a crack across Grimvalvor's helmet.
Strom: "Everyone—RUN! MOVE NOW!"
The blast had stripped away half of the giant's helmet, revealing part of his monstrous, armored skull. Grimvalvor snarled and charged forward, his blade carving deep into the earth as he swung wildly.
Every warrior threw in their last tricks, their most desperate strikes—burning spells, spears thrown with enough force to bend steel, enchanted arrows tipped with poison.
But the toll was heavy. Injured soldiers limped. Knights coughed blood. The once-tight formation was chaos.
Astrid's breathing was heavy, blood seeping through her armor, but her grip on her sword only tightened.
Sam: "You should take rest!"
Astrid: smirking despite the pain "I don't take rest, baby."
Sam's grin was quick, then gone—his focus snapping back as he unleashed a roaring fireball into Grimvalvor's chest.
The giant responded by stomping forward and smashing everything in reach. The air itself seemed to ripple from the sheer force of his swings.
By the time the dust began to settle, most of the battlefield was a graveyard. Crushed armor, broken banners, and bodies lay scattered. Only Strom and Dravyss were still standing against him.
Dravyss, her scales cracked and bleeding from countless hits, still bared her teeth in defiance.
Strom, bruised and bloodied, had his armor glowing faintly—the dragon aura desperately repairing cracks in the plating.
Then they saw it—
The Seal of Eternity.
Grimvalvor was almost there.
The giant's laugh rumbled like distant thunder.
Grimvalvor: "Master… you're coming home."
A blazing meteor streaked down from the sky—Strom's summons—slamming into the back of the giant's skull. Before the smoke cleared, Dravyss whipped her tail with earth-shattering force, cracking his neckplate and forcing him to stagger.
For a moment, they had him.
For a moment, hope sparked again.
Then Dravyss faltered, wings folding, her massive body collapsing onto the ground. Blood pooled beneath her.
Strom: "Mom! Mom, please—open your eyes!"
Dravyss: faint, her voice trembling "Sorry… son… I failed you."
Strom: "No. Not you. Never you."
Strom's eyes burned—not with tears, but with raw rage. He turned back to Grimvalvor, spear in hand, and charged. Every strike was desperate, driven by fury, but his body was slowing, his breathing ragged.
The giant backhanded him with enough force to send him sliding across the ground. Strom forced himself to stand again, only to drop to one knee.
Strom: "No… I can't…"
His vision blurred. The world tilted. Darkness took him.
Grimvalvor reached the Seal.
He rammed his massive sword into the central lock—its hilt fitting perfectly. A sickening, grinding noise echoed as the lock turned, drawing the giant's life force out in a surge of black light.
As Grimvalvor's body slumped, the sky itself darkened. Tendrils of shadow spread like ink through water, and an ancient, suffocating presence began to seep into the air.
The Seal was broken.
Something far worse was coming.
To be countinue.....